


Time Is A Thief

by Knightfalling_for_you



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen, Major Character Death Mentioned, Someone needs to give Barry a good talking-to, Spoilers for Flash 2x23, Spoilers for LOT 1x15, Time doesn't like being screwed with
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 11:52:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6983977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knightfalling_for_you/pseuds/Knightfalling_for_you
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Barry's big decision at the end of Season 2, he finds himself stuck having a conversation with a familiar face about his mistakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Derailed

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

When Barry’s running, it feels like everything around him stops. At first it was jarring and disorienting, but now he’s used to it. It’s actually calming, in a way, to feel like time is paused. It’s a nice feeling to know that time is waiting on you.

This isn’t that feeling.

When Barry stops the Reverse-Flash from killing his mother, time stops. But he’s not in control of it. The second he saves her, he feels everything going on around him come to a screeching halt, as if time is a car that slammed on its brakes at the very last second before a red light. This is supposed to be right, this is supposed to fix everything, but there’s a gut reaction that _everything is wrong._

After the feeling comes a flash of light, and then there’s nothing.

. . .

The first thing Barry notices, when he wakes up, is a freezing cold. He rubs his arms together, but it does nothing to stop the bitter wind biting at every inch of him. He tries to run to warm up, vaguely aware that he’s next to a train track, but when he does, time doesn’t stop. Barry’s legs hurt and his bones ache, and he knows that his speed isn’t there. He’s lost it again.

His first thought is that he’s broken the timeline and lost his powers, like Eobard did originally. His second thought is that maybe he’s stuck in the speed force again, maybe this is his punishment for meddling with time again. Maybe this time the speed force won’t let Barry out, but leave him to the time wraiths. He shudders, remembering what they did to Zoom, and he keeps running.

“You’re really slow at learning from your mistakes, Barry.” a familiar voice drawls. Barry turns, and there’s Leonard Snart, sitting on the train tracks and playing solitaire. His gun and goggles are gone, and instead of his parka he wears a black leather jacket. He flips up a card, not even bothering to look at Barry. “It’s ironic.”

“Snart? Wha—how? Where are we?” Barry stammers, pulling his cowl down and looking around at the railroad tracks. There’s something familiar about the spot, but he can’t put his finger on it. He takes a seat next to Snart, teeth gritting as he touches the cold metal. “And how are you not freezing?”

“We're at the train tracks,” Snart says, flipping over another card. “One of our first encounters was here.” Barry remembers it now, remembers Snart derailing the train and Cisco just barely saving him from an icy death with a vacuum cleaner.

“Yeah. I remember. A lot of people almost died,” he fires back, but Snart just keeps on playing solitaire, unconcerned. “How did I get here, though? And what—”

“Year is it?” Snart asks with a smirk. “Take your pick, doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t understand,” Barry snaps. “What’s going on?” There’s something unsettling about Snart’s calm. “Am I in the speed force again?”

“Nope. Consider this . . .” Snart waves his hands, gesturing to the general landscape. “Time. At its epicenter.”

“Time. I’m literally stuck in time. Great.” Barry lets out a harsh laugh. He should’ve realized he could only screw with the timeline so many times. “So why you, then? Why’d time decide to choose your face to wear?”

“Oh, it didn’t choose me,” Snart says, tapping a his hand against a rail. A silver ring on his hand makes a harsh noise as it clashes with the metal. “Not like that. I’m not about to be anyone’s puppet. Not again.”

Barry takes a good look at Snart. There’s more emotion on his face than he usually has in Captain Cold mode, more emotion than he’d have if he was just a projection of time or the speed force. He can’t be certain, but Barry’s got a feeling this is the real Snart.

“So what are you doing here? Did you piss off time too?” he asks.

“Wrong again, Barry,” Snart says, turning up an ace from his last pile. “I _am_ time.”


	2. Lesson #1

“Don’t bother asking too many questions, kid, you’ll just get a headache,” Snart (is it Snart? Or time?) advises Barry, picking up his cards and reshuffling them. “Anyway, my . . . existence is besides the point.” 

“Then what is the point?” Barry snaps, frustrated. Whether he’s talking to Time, Snart, or some amalgamation of the two, he doesn’t like his situation. It feels too much like one of Snart’s heists, where Barry’s never the one in control. And no matter how much he’s learned from the last time, he always manages to slip up and let Snart get away. 

“The point is, you screwed up. Again,” Snart snaps back at him. Barry glances over at him, taken aback. He’s rarely seen Snart lose his cool. It’s scary, but not in the same way he’s seen other people get angry. It’s not the vindictive rage Eobard Thawne channeled when they fought, or the defensive anger of someone who’s been broken too many times, like Oliver Queen. Snart’s anger is cold, naturally, but it’s not like being frozen to death. It’s the goosebumps pricking your arms, the chill on the back of your neck, and the feeling like you need to run and hide, but there’s nowhere to go. 

Snart closes his eyes and sighs, letting out a visible breath. Then his eyes snap back open. “But that’s not what you should ask me about. What you should really be asking is ‘Why am I here’?”

“At the train tracks, or stuck talking to time?” Barry asks, careful not to antagonize Snart again. He might not have his gun, but that doesn’t make him any less dangerous. 

“Let’s start with the former. Do you remember what I told you that night after the train wreck, right before I almost killed you?” He says the last part so cavalierly that Barry almost wants to punch him in the face. 

 _You forced me to up my game, not only with this gun, but with how I think about the job. It's been educational._ Barry hears the words echoing around him in the wind.

“You said that learning how to fight me made you better.” 

“Bingo,” Snart says, standing up. Barry stands next to him. “You taught me to up my game. What I didn’t realize at the time was that I did the same thing to you.” 

That's undeniable. Barry remembers Oliver criticizing him for how he handled the train incident, telling him he needed to start casing environments. Casing and perimeter checks have become a habit of his now, one he hopefully passed on to Kara. 

“So, what did you learn?” He asks expectantly. 

“That I needed to stop running in blind,” Barry says, watching the railroad trail off, seemingly into nothingness. _But what does this have to do with anything? Why are we still here, talking? What’s happened to my mom?_  

“ _And_ , you needed to stop running in alone. You’d have died that night, if it wasn’t for Cisco. You see, Barry, every time you make decisions on your own, it doesn’t go so well, does it? 

“Only problem is, you’re either a slow learner or you’ve got a bad memory. When you rushed back to 2000, to save your mom, you didn’t bother to think about the ramifications or look at the timeline. And you didn’t ask your friends for help or advice either. You rushed in, blind and alone.” 

“So, that’s it, then? You’re here to give me a lecture?” Barry scoffs. “You never seemed like the type to encourage teamwork.” 

“Lot can change in five months,” Snart says mysteriously. “Funny thing is, I never seemed to mind being alone, back in the real world. As long as I knew Lisa was safe, I could be on my own for months and not care. But now that I’m stuck here, I hate it. I hate being alone. 

“That’s the shitty thing about being time: you don’t get any company, you just watch as everyone’s lives run their course. I’ve watched Mick and Lisa’s lives over and over, from start to finish, but I can’t talk to them . . . or anyone else.” He pauses, for a second, and Barry swears he could hear a bird cry in the distance. He notices a flash of white wings soar by, but it’s gone in an instant. “It gets boring, after all, and you can’t play gin alone. I’ve tried.” 

“So that’s what you dragged me here to tell me?” Barry says. “Great. I get it. Now let me go back and save her.”  

“I didn’t say that was the only thing I had to tell you,” Snart says, shuffling the deck again. The next thing Barry knows, they’re not on the train tracks anymore. Suddenly, they’re on the corner of Porter and Main. It’s not day anymore, but dusk. “If you think that was all I ever taught you, you’re forgetting a few things.”


	3. Schooling

Barry’s still freezing, but the crisp cold air has been replaced by a wind that carries the smell of smoke. The scent takes him back to the street fight he had with Cold and Heatwave on this block. _Any preference on how you’d like to die? The flame or the frost?_ He remembers the acute pain of being frozen and burned at the same time and shudders a little. 

“You’re more nostalgic than I thought,” Barry mutters. Snart chuckles a little, pulling up a chair to an outdoor café table and sitting down. 

“Blackjack?” he asks, waving the cards. Barry just shakes his head. “Not in the mood. Got it.” He gestures at the chair across from him. “Have a seat.” 

“So what lesson do you have for me now?” Barry asks, sitting down and rolling his eyes. “How to count cards?” 

“Maybe later,” Snart drawls. “After all, it’s not like I’m going anywhere. But first, another trip down memory lane.” 

“Oh, yeah. Getting lit on fire and almost dying of frostbite again. Good times.” 

“If it makes you feel better, the goal wasn’t to kill you; it was just to beat you, but I didn’t end up doing that either. Do you remember _why_ you won?” 

“Because I made your guns cancel each other out.” Barry can’t help smirking in spite of himself. “Yeah, fire and ice don’t really work well together, don’t know if you’ve noticed.” 

“Once again, you’re missing the point. Sure, you made our guns cross streams, but in order to do that, you had to do what?” 

 _The solution here isn’t going faster. It’s going slower._ “I had to slow down.” 

“Right on the money. That’s the thing about you, Barry: you’re racing to fix things. You’ve always got to stop the problem right away, so you rush into it without giving it time to think. It’s not enough to fight fast; you have to fight smart. Slow down for a change. The first solution that comes to your mind isn’t automatically the right one. You should know that by now.” 

“Why?” Barry asks, feeling anger inside him. Since when does a career criminal get to lecture him on his mistakes? “Why are you doing this, Snart, or whoever you are? Why did you pull me out of the timestream, just to tell me everything I’m doing wrong? What gives you the right?” 

Snart leans across the table, looking him straight in the eye. “Word of advice, Barry: you can learn just as much from the people who knock you down as the people who pick you back up again. I’m living proof of that, and so are you. If it wasn’t for Thawne, you wouldn’t know half as many tricks, and even that lunatic Zolomon taught you a few things. So maybe, for once, you start _paying attention._ ” 

Barry shakes his head. This isn’t Snart. It can’t be. Snart wouldn’t know those details, about Zoom and the Reverse-Flash. This is just the speedforce or time messing with him, keeping him from going back to his time. He doesn’t have to listen to it. So he does what he always does. 

He runs.


	4. Hand & Foot

The problem with running here, in the epicenter of time, is that Barry doesn’t know where everything is. It’s not like running through Central City because there are gaps where things should be. Every building that remains is either somewhere he’s encountered Snart or somewhere Snart’s been, with or without him. It’s like he’s living in Snart’s memories, almost. He rushes past an old Motorcar diner, sprints through a couple of safe houses, and even ends up in Star City a few times. 

Barry stops when he winds up in a forest, placing his hands on his knees and catching breaths. Even though he’s just been running like hell, the cold wind bites at his skin and the sweat on his brow does nothing to cancel it out. He shouldn’t really be surprised at the frigid, persistent climate, since this world seems to be based off Captain Cold’s psyche. 

Barry sits down in the dirt, disoriented. He wonders how it’s possible to feel tired, cold, afraid, angry, confused, and a bit guilty all at once, the emotions overloading his brain. He needs to rest, he knows that, but he also needs to get out of here. He has to stop Thawne and make sure his mother’s okay. Barry can rest when he’s dead. 

“Done with the scenic route?” Snart asks sarcastically from behind him. He comes up to sit next to Barry, leaning against the trunk of a tree. 

“Just leave me alone for once,” Barry mutters. It doesn’t matter if this is Snart or Time talking to him, he just wants to be left in peace. 

“Can’t do that,” Snart says, shuffling his cards again. Barry’s sorely tempted to chuck them across the clearing. “Ever play Hand-and-Foot?” 

“No.” If this is Leonard Snart, he’s gotten a lot chattier. It’s getting pretty annoying. 

“It’s a partner game. Everyone playing gets two stacks with eight cards each. Without looking at your stacks, you choose one. That becomes your hand, while the other deck becomes your foot. There are a lot more rules and nuances, but the important thing is that you can’t look at or use your foot until your hand is played out. Problem is, you don’t know which stack you should’ve grabbed first until it’s too late.” 

“This is a metaphor, isn’t it?” Barry asks. Looks like his little therapy session isn’t done yet. 

“You could say that,” Snart says, tilting his head. “Sometimes, in life, you end up the same way: with two choices and an unclear outcome. Like when you changed time to stop Mardon.” 

“I didn’t know what I was doing!” Barry snaps defensively. “And even if I did, I still would’ve done it. I didn’t have a choice; Mardon was going to destroy the city!” 

“Simmer down,” Snart says, in an almost patronizing way. “Wasn’t blaming you. But when you changed that day, you set off a chain of circumstances that led us here.” He gestures to the forest clearing. “Remember?” 

 _Good to see you,_ Barry. 

_We have to talk._

Snart continues. “That time, you got lucky. Time didn’t change too much and you stopped some deaths, Cisco’s included. The problem is, not every moment in time is so flexible. Some moments are more important than others. They set the timeline, define the world we live in. These are called flashpoints. They’re rigid and can’t be easily broken. When they’re destroyed, the timeline crashes, and everything changes. Friends become enemies, the dead are alive and the living are dead, the world’s thrown into chaos, and _nobody can see the difference._ ” 

“You’re saying her death is one of those flashpoints,” Barry says. “You don’t understand Snart, I have—” 

“To fix it? Believe me, I _get it_ ,” Snart hisses. “I’ve tried changing flashpoints before. I thought I could stop my dad from going to prison and turning into an abuser, but the timeline just fixed itself. And even after I got stuck here, stuck inside time, stuck _as_ time, there were still things I couldn’t change, and that was one of them. 

“So I figured maybe I could fix some other points in time, play hero a little bit.” He lets out a foggy breath. “Didn’t always work. Tried to save the family of a guy I knew, Rip, but I couldn’t. No matter how I shifted the timeline, they always ended up murdered at the hand of his worst enemy. So I figured, alright, I’ll try something else. 

“I tried to save the sister of a friend of mine from dying. I thought it would be fine, that time would allow it. Only problem was, when I stopped her death, everything fell apart. The man who killed her in the original timeline was a monster, a powerful sorcerer trying to destroy Star City.” 

“Damien Darhk,” Barry says, remembering their extremely brief encounter. “Are you talking about Laurel Lance? You know her sister?” 

“Long story,” Snart says. “Point is, without the Black Canary’s death to spur him on to vengeance, the Green Arrow in the new timeline decided to be merciful and spare Darhk’s life. Of course, Dahrk broke out of prison again and completely _slaughtered_ the entire team, tired of playing the cat-and-mouse game. And without them to stand in his way, he wreaked havoc on a global scale.” 

“Yeah, but that’s not going to happen this time,” Barry insists. “My mom was supposed to live in the original timeline, and the world didn’t come to an end in that one." 

“But in changing her death, you didn’t reset the timeline to its original state. You and Thawne weren’t there, that night, in the original timeline. In fact, you two have altered the timeline of your life exactly _five times_. Everything you’ve done so far, Barry, has led you to the moment where you save your mother, but that wouldn’t be possible without her death in the first place. In undoing that event, you’ve unraveled your already convoluted web of timelines. If time does manage to stabilize, your present and future aren’t going to be pretty.” 

“I don’t get it,” Barry says. This is a lot to take in at once, even for a guy who’s traveled through time, as well as alternate dimensions. “Fine, I’m wrecking time, I get it. But why are you bothering to tell me? If you can control time, why not just stop me that way?” 

“Fun fact about the speed force, Barry. It’s not just the source of your powers, it’s your protection. All those time remnants of you, Thawne, and Zolomon shouldn’t exist. The damn things don’t make any sense, but I can’t erase them from the timeline because the speed force is protecting them. When a speedster changes the timeline . . .” 

“Only another speedster can change it back,” Barry realizes.

“Exactly. Explains why the Time Masters—some bureaucratic assholes who used to oversee time—haven’t been on your case; they can’t stop you, and neither can I. I could wait for the speed force to send a few wraiths after you, of course, but that wouldn’t fix the timeline. So I did the only thing I could: pulled you out of time to have a chat.” 

“How do I know anything you’re saying is true?” Barry asks. “If you’re time, how can I trust you? And if you’re Snart, how do I know you’re not lying to me again?” 

Snart lets out a sigh and stands up. “And that brings me to our next lesson. Try to keep up, kid.” 


	5. Saints and Sinners

The forest vanishes, and suddenly Barry’s inside Sinners and Saints, sitting at a corner booth. The bar is dimly lit, and the pool table is set up for a game. There’s even the smell of cheap liquor in the air and a faint melody drifting out of the jukebox. 

_We’ll meet again,_

_Don’t know where, don’t know when,_

_But I know we’ll meet again,_

_Some sunny day._  

Snart sits across from him, pouring two glasses of ‘86 Russian whiskey. He slides one over to Barry. 

“You know I can’t get drunk, right?” Barry asks, staring at the brown liquid. 

“Neither can I anymore, but it doesn’t hurt,” Snart says. He takes a sip from his whiskey, then gets out the card deck again. 

“So this is what you do now, besides control the timeline. Give me life advice and try to get me to play card games.” It’s just so . . . bizarre. Sure, Barry’s fought man-sharks and magicians, but this is just a different level of surreal. 

“What can I say?” Snart says with a sigh. “This whole ‘guardian of time’ gig gets boring.” He says that nonchalantly, but his smirk doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Barry notices an emotion in them he’s never seen before: resignation. 

“What’s the game this time?” Barry asks, trying to distract Snart from whatever he’s thinking of. He even takes a gulp of his drink, feeling the whiskey burn his throat. But it gives him warmth that actually helps combat the freezing cold, which followed him into the bar. 

“I was going to suggest poker, but that doesn’t seem to be your strong suit,” Snart says. 

“Why do you say that?” 

“You’re not exactly a genius when it comes to reading people, are you?” 

Barry lets out a sigh, annoyed that he almost felt sorry for Snart, being stuck here alone. “Let me guess: another lesson. Ok, fine. First time I was in here, I was trying to convince you to help me contain and transport five metas to the airfield so A.R.G.U.S. could pick them up. It pretty much went downhill from there.” 

“No argument there. So, what’s the moral of the story?” he asks expectantly 

“Never hire a petty criminal to do your dirty work?” Barry asks tiredly. 

Snart smirks. “Not quite. You want to know another one of your problems, Barry? You either think the best of people or the worst of people. When you came to me, you tried to see the best of me because you knew there was, somewhere, _deep down_ , some good in me. But you put too much faith in that and forgot about all the other shit inside me. 

“You made a similar mistake with Thawne. First you assumed that because he appeared to be Harrison Wells, your science hero, he had to be a good person. Then, when you found out he killed your mother, he went straight to the other end of the spectrum. You’ve gotten too used to seeing things in black and white. Trust me, there’s a lot more gray than you know. You and I aren’t that different, and neither are you and Thawne.” 

“That’s insane,” Barry hisses, slamming his glass on the ground, because hell, this place isn’t even real, so who cares if he makes a mess? “He’s a murderer. A monster. I’m nothing like him.” 

“You’re not, hmm? I seem to recall you being prepared to kill Zolomon in an instant. And honestly, you and Thawne wanted the same thing, in the end: to go home. You should’ve let him go, would’ve solved a lot of problems. But you let your hate blind you to the fact that Thawne wasn’t just your enemy anymore. You’re stuck, seeing the world in black and white, and it’s clouding your judgment when it comes to people.” 

“What, so I should just not get close to anyone?” Barry asks. “Be cold and cynical, like you?” 

“Didn’t say that. What I’m saying is, you can’t make snap decisions about people. The world isn’t made up of heroes and villains, Barry. You’ve got to realize that a bit of good in someone doesn’t erase the evil they’ve done. And vice versa, you can’t say someone’s irredeemable because of the blood on their hands. There's a reason this bar's called Saints and Sinners—there's a bit of both in each of us.” 

“You’re saying I’ve got to stop seeing people from only one side.” 

“Mhhm. It’s all about perspective,” Snart says, finishing off the last of his drink. 

“Where to next?” Barry asks, standing up. 

“Well, I figured I’d go to our next encounter, the one with dear old dad, but I think I’ll skip Christmas. So lucky you, there’s only one lesson left to learn. Think you can handle that?” 

“Do I have a choice?” 

Snart smirks, as the bar background fades around them. “Not really.” 

“Shocker.”


	6. Kadima

The next place Barry sees is all-too familiar. It’s the room in Iron Heights he spent so many years as a kid, talking to his dad, wishing he could break the glass between them. The memory only drives a dagger into his heart as he realizes that he’d be content just to see his dad alive, in prison or not. But he can’t. Not anymore. 

“Why?” Barry asks Snart, his voice hollow as he stares at the empty chair where his father used to sit. “Why here?” 

“When you came to visit me here, you told me I didn’t have to let my past define me,” Snart replies. “You need to start taking your own advice.” 

“How? How do I do that?” Barry says, trying to force back the tears. “I can’t just forget about them. Dad, Mom, Ronnie, Eddie . . . there are so many good people who are dead, because of me.” 

“The way I look at it, you have three options,” Snart says, shuffling his card deck again. “The first is to keep on letting that grief control you, like you’ve been doing ever since you were eleven. That’s the reason Thawne said you’d never be happy, Barry—you won’t let yourself be. 

“Your second option is to take revenge. Focus on your anger and let that guide you instead. But every time you do that, you hurt yourself and everyone else around you. Staying mad at the world isn’t going to fix anything. 

“Your third option is to do what those people would want. Your parents would want you to live your life, Barry, they’ve said that over and over. Ronnie would want you to keep an eye on Caitlin and Cisco. And Eddie . . . Eddie would want you to respect his choice. He died to save all of you, knowingly and willingly. You can’t just throw away his legacy on grief, because _he made a choice_. And I can guarantee, if he could talk to you from beyond the grave, he’d tell you to get off your ass and get to work.” 

Barry just stares at him, dumbfounded. When did Leonard Snart, criminal and liar, become so wise? “You sure about that?” 

“It’s what I’d tell my friends to do,” Snart says, dead serious. “And it’s what they’d tell me, if they were dead and I was alive.” 

“You died?” Barry asked. He’d have thought Snart would mention that sooner. “How?” 

“Long story short, I joined a fool’s crusade to stop an immortal madman—a guy you’ve met, Vandal Savage—by traveling through time with a bunch of misfits. There was a device, an Occulus, used to manipulate time his allies were using, so we decided to blow it up. But there was a failsafe inside, ensuring that unless someone was present when the Occulus exploded, the detonation wouldn’t work.” 

“You sacrificed yourself,” Barry says, the realization dawning. “And that’s why you ended up here.” So it’s not really a question of Snart or Time. They’re one and the same. 

“Stuck as the only one who can see all of time, and change it. Well, some of it, anyway.” 

“I’m sorry. When I told you to be a hero—” 

“This wasn’t what you had in mind?” Snart says drily. “Well, I went out with a bang. Besides, someone’s got to keep you yahoos from destroying the timeline, might as well be me.” 

“That almost sounds heartfelt,” Barry says with a smile, glancing over at Snart. He’s tempted to hug the man, but instinct tells him that even after an eternity alone, Snart still isn’t a hugger. So he compromises and sticks out a hand. Snart shakes it, smiling back at him. It’s a small victory, but he’ll take it. “You’re getting soft in your old age.” 

“Maybe, maybe not,” Snart says with a roll of his eyes. “One last tip, Barry: stop waiting. On Iris, I mean.” 

“I thought you said there was only one lesson left.” 

Snart gives a trademark smirk. “I lied. Point is, grow a pair and ask her out. You too have the shittiest timing when it comes to talking about your feelings, so stop waiting around and do something. Trust me . . . this isn’t something you want to leave for the last second. Take it from someone who knows.”

Barry can hear the regret in Snart’s voice now. “Was there someone—” 

“Let’s just say I waited too long. My timing is just as bad as yours.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, well. The funny thing is, I’ve been lecturing you on the mistakes you’ve made, but this time I’m telling you not to make the same mistakes as me. You and Iris love each other, it’s that simple. It’s not fate, it's not destiny; it’s love. That doesn’t happen often. So don’t waste it.” 

“I won’t,” Barry says softly. “Thanks, Snart. You might’ve been an ass about it, but you told me what I needed to hear.” 

“Just don’t forget what I taught you, or I’ll pull you out here again.” 

Barry laughs. “It wouldn’t be so bad. I need to learn how to play poker anyhow.” 

“Just focus on Hearts, Barry,” Snart says. And there it is: a pun. Well, some things never change. 

“So. What happens now?” 

“I’m going to have to send you back to that night again, and this time, you keep yourself—all thirty-seven or so versions of you—from interfering, _no matter what_. Then you run along to 2016.” 

“You’re not coming with me?” 

“I can’t. I don’t actually have a physical form to send with you, so I’m stuck here.” 

“Maybe Cisco can open a breach here and we’ll get you back,” Barry says, cling to a bit of hope. 

“Sounds like a hail-Mary, but I wouldn’t mind the effort.” Snart pauses. “If you see anyone I know—Lisa, Mick, the team—tell them that I . . . I’ve still got their backs.” 

“I will,” Barry says, pulling on his mask. “I promise. And thanks.” 

“Run, Barry,” Snart says softly, as the backdrop of Iron Heights fades away, replaced by Barry’s old house. Even as Barry watches the scene play out in front of him, he can still hear Snart’s whisper in his ear as he rushes to stop himself.  _"Run."_

Time is on his side again.


End file.
